Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from El Salvador and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Arthur Verocai to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Mars. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Amazonics,
Amon Düül II,
Minnie Riperton,
Rakim,
Avey Tare,
The Dead C,
The Blackbyrds,
Monks,
Livin' Joy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Max Romeo,
Black Bananas,
Suburban Knight,
Delta 5,
LL Cool J,
Dead Boys,
Wire,
Negative Approach,
Deadbeat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Brick,
The Evens,
Moss Icon,
The Invisible,
Steve Hackett,
Colin Newman,
The Tremeloes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hot Snakes,
Circle Jerks,
Ronan,
Davy DMX,
Agitation Free,
Rotary Connection,
DJ Style,
Sexual Harrassment,
Heaven 17,
Minutemen,
Robert Görl,
Ponytail,
Delon & Dalcan,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vainqueur,
Whodini,
Howard Jones,
Henry Cow,
Shoche,
Pole,
World's Most,
Robert Hood,
AZ,
Bad Manners,
Saccharine Trust,
Fear,
Simply Red,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Interpol,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.